Ever After
by Nuttycheychey
Summary: When an act of kindness and mistaken identity lead the paths of servant-girl Alice Kingsleigh and Prince Tarrant Hightopp to accidently cross, something is set in motion that will change the kingdom of Underland forever. ADOPTED FROM Darianella!
1. Prologue

Prologue

_Dear Alice and Margaret,_

_Things are going exceptionally well here in France, but I miss you both greatly. I do have some exciting news, though. I've finally found a suitable father for you both! He is an exceptional man of high class, and knows how to run a household well. In addition, he has a daughter your age, Margaret! I'm terribly sorry that you both couldn't attend the wedding, and I missed you both terribly during the ceremony. It will be wonderful to see you both when I get home, and I can't wait for you to meet Andrew and Iracebeth!_

_Love forever, _

Helen Kingsleigh Crim

"Oh, Margaret! We're getting a new father!" little Alice exclaimed, jumping around in her joy. Her older sister smiled at the seven-year-old's excitement, and folded the letter that she had just finished reading aloud. "When do you think they'll get here? I can't wait to meet Irece… Irici… What was her name, again?" the little blond stopped spinning and wobbled a bit, looking at her sister expectantly.

"Iracebeth," She responded, "And Ascott said that they'd arrive within the next few days."

"Marvelous!" Alice cheered as she resumed her spinning.

"Alice! Alice! Alice!" A small boy with orange hair came bounding into the room. He didn't see the blonde's crazy movements, and the two ended up colliding into each other, landing in a heap on the floor.

"My goodness, Hamish! What is it?" Margaret asked as she rushed to help the two up. Hamish and his father, Ascott, were servants in the Kingsleigh household, though Hamish served as a playmate and friend to Alice more than anything else.

"Father told me to give this letter to you!" He replied excitedly, holding up a now-crumpled envelope. Margaret took the item from him, and, after everyone was untangled, opened it to read to the two other children.

_Dear Kingsleigh house,_

_I regret to inform you that Helen Kinsleigh Crim has fallen extremely ill with pneumonia during our travels throughout Europe. We have stopped our journey in upper England to fetch a doctor, though she is not expected to live through the night. I regret to be the bearer of bad news before we have even met, and I hope that this will not taint our relationship in the future. _

_Many condolences,_

_Andrew Crim_

Margaret dropped the paper and took a step back from it, as though it was something contagious. She slowly looked up to the shocked little faces of the two children, and saw tears welling up in Alice's eyes. Suddenly, the seven-year-old turned and ran down the hall. "Alice, wait!" her older sister called as she dashed after her.

Alice fled through the house and out the front door, but came to a skidding stop on the front porch. There, in the pathway that led up the house, was a frightening-looking carriage of an ugly maroon color. As Margaret came panting up behind Alice, a tall, thin man with greasy black hair stepped out, followed by a pale girl with stark-red hair and the largest head either of the two children had ever seen…


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_Eleven years later..._

"Alice! _Alice_! _ALICE_!"

"Gah!" a pretty – yet grimy – young blonde tumbled out of her bed in a tangled heap of sheets and skirts. "What is it?" She demanded groggily, poking her head up and peering over the side of the bed towards the orange-haired young man that stood above her.

"Margaret and Iracebeth are ready to leave for market, and _you're still here_!" he hissed, looking to his right and left as though someone else were watching.

"Shoot; it's Thursday, isn't it?" she replied in the same hushed tone, scrambling off the floor and over to the washbasin.

"Obviously, or I wouldn't be here… and neither would you, for that matter." He said as he walked towards the attic door. "You have roughly three minutes before Andrew comes up here, and _then_ you'll be in even more trouble." With that, he left, but not before giving the scrambling young woman a sympathetic glance.

Alice, on the other hand, was too stressed to notice. She splashed several handfuls of the icy water on her face, and quickly slipped into her market dress. When she was done getting ready, she dashed down the stairs to the kitchen. "Ascott!" she exclaimed in a hushed voice to the grey-haired man at the fire. "Have you seen my basket?"

"Alice? You're still here?" he replied, turning to face the frazzled blonde.

"Yes, yes; I know I'm late. Now, _have you seen my basket_?" she demanded firmly, though her eyes revealed just how worried she was.

"I believe the cat had it last," Ascott replied, standing. "I'll help you look for it. Hopefully we'll find it before—"

"A-lice!" a shrill voice cut him off. "Where _is_ that girl?" Thundering footsteps sounded down the hall, coming ever closer to the kitchen. Both Alice and Ascott's faces grew even more panicky.

"Hurry, I'll stall her, and you find the basket!" the old man whispered, and he stepped out into the hall and closed the kitchen door. Alice didn't take the time to worry about her friend, and began whirling about the room, searching for her market basket.

"Where did that dreadful cat put it?" she mumbled to herself, as she continued to look.

"Looking for this…?" A voice purred behind her. Alice whipped around as a blue-purple cat moseyed into the room at a leisurely pace, the aforementioned basket held firmly between its teeth and a lazy grin on its face.

"Give me that, you insufferable feline!" She growled as she snatched the item from him.

"Your welcome, Alice," he droned as he turned circles and curled up in from of the fire, still grinning.

"Good day, Chessur," and with that, she threw open the kitchen door.

"…wondering which color would suit him be—ah, Alice!" Ascott was backed up against one of the walls, babbling nervously and practically shaking under the stern gaze of the woman in front of him. At his exclamation, she turned to face the frazzled young woman as she tried to smooth out the wrinkles in her old, worn dress.

The woman had pasty, pale skin, and wore an elaborate velvet gown of red and black, decorated with hearts. The most alarming feature about her wasn't the strangely vibrant hair set up in a 'delicate' bun atop her head, but the enormously large head itself. "Alice," she hissed menacingly, "So nice of you to join us. Are you ready to go to market?" Her tone was sugary-sweet, and dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes, ma'am. I am sorry for the inconvenience my tardiness has caused you," Alice curtseyed at the woman before her, and the action seemed to satisfy Iracebeth.

"Alright, then, let's get a move on. The carriage won't wait all day, you know," she sniffed and brushed past Ascott, before making her way down the hall and out of sight. The old man let out the breath he had been holding.

"You better go, my dear." He said with a small smile as she shooed Alice away. "Good luck!" The young woman thanked him, hugged him, and made her way quickly after the frightful mistress of the house.

The distinctive maroon carriage came to a halt at the edge of the market square, and the young, orange-haired man perched at the reigns scrambled down to open the door for the two women seated inside. "M'lady," He gave a small bow as he helped the first down to the ground. She was tall, with fair skin and light brown hair. She had a pretty face, but her innocence had long been tainted by following the cruel-hearted woman that was her step-sister for years. She barely acknowledged the man as she stepped into the open air.

After the second, more startling, woman emerged, the two began their journey through the different stall and stands, selling an array of different things varying from fruits, vegetables, and meat, to jewelry and cloth. The pair stopped to look at one of the stands containing fine costume brooches, and Margaret paused for a moment to look around the area. "Where ever did Alice end up?"

"Oh, I don't know," Iracebeth responded, not eve looking up from the wares. "She's around here somewhere. She needs to come quickly, though; I'm about to purchase something, and I need that little wretch and her basket to carry it for me." Margaret merely nodded absently, used to her step-sister's degrading comments toward her little sister, and turned back the shiny items before her.

Alice, meanwhile, was still at the carriage with Hamish. "You really should follow them, you know," He tutted at the blonde. "They're not going to be happy when they see that you're still here."

"Oh, they can carry their own purchases; let them do a little manual labor for once in their lives!" She scoffed, fingering the basket in her hands nervously.

"That attitude is going to get you lashed, for sure," he responded. "I don't want to be the one to hear your moans and groans as you do your work after _that_."

"But you'd put up with me anyway," she laughed sadly, poking him in the arm. She then glanced at her 'sisters', and saw that Margaret was looking around for something. She sighed, "I guess that's my calling." She sighed again, and began making her way over to where the other two were waiting.

"There you are, you stupid girl!" Iracebeth practically screeched as she dumped a little wrapped package roughly into Alice's outstretched basket.

"So sorry to keep you waiting, Madame," she feigned sorrow, gave a small curtsey, and bowed her head. This seemed to satisfy the big-headed woman for now, and she simply turned up her nose at the groveling girl.

"Don't let it happen again," she scolded, before stalking off, Margaret in tow. The trio continued to wander throughout the marketplace, stopping to look at stands every so often, and Iracebeth or Margaret occasionally purchasing something. Soon, the basket was filled with useless trinkets and jewelry that neither needed, but just wanted. The basket was getting very heavy, but Alice was used to work and had grown very strong over the years.

Soon, they stopped at another stall filled with elaborately sewn cloths. "Madame?" Alice asked as meekly as she could, trying to butter up to her step-sister.

"Yes, what is it?" She snapped, not even looking up from the fine wares.

"Might I purchase some new seed for this season?" In reality, she, Ascott, and Hamish had plenty of grain and seed to plant for this year's growing season; Alice simply wanted a few moments of freedom from the restraints of following her horrible sisters around. It wasn't often that they let her out on her own, even on market day, and she was willing to try and ask, just this once.

To her delight, the redhead waved her off. "Yes, yes; but be quick. Give the basket to Margaret until you return." Alice felt no guilt as she practically dumped the heavy packages into her sister's weak arms, and had to hold herself back, lest she break into a full-fledged sprint away from her 'family'. First, she stopped by a small stand to buy a bit of grain, just so her alibi checked out. Then, she simply began to wander. Alice really wasn't looking for anything in particular; she just wanted to enjoy a few moments of fresh air, so to speak.

She wove through the maze of stalls and venders, listening as the owners called out deals and prices, trying to attract customers. Soon, she found herself in the grocers' section of the market square, and took in all the sights and smells of fruits, vegetables, and cooking meats. Alice smile softly to herself as she watched a mother struggling to buy a roasted turkey _and_ keep up with her little son.

Suddenly, a loud, booming voice broke through her thoughts as she passed a particular stand. "Get out of 'ere, ye filthy vermin!" The man's voice was low and gruff, and the young woman turned to see the owner of an apple stand trying to fend off a _mouse_, of all creatures! As she watched, the small, white creature dodged various blows from the large man, and managed to snatch a piece off an old apple core. The mouse then began to scamper quickly away, seemingly happy with its prize. "Gotcha!" the owner bellowed as he brought down a woven apple basket over the small creature. "You'll make a fine toy fer me _cat_," he grinned wickedly, and let out a maniacal laugh at the fearful expression on the mouse's face.

Alice, being a lover of animals and all things living (just ask the five dogs, one cat, and numerous cattle that lived on her step-father's farm with her), decided to step in at this moment. "Excuse me, sir?"

"Yes'm?" he grunted, flipping the basket over and slapping a lid on it before the creature could escape.

"What use is it to you that the hungry creature takes a bit of your trash for food? It's not as if you're going to eat it… are you?" She asked meekly, putting on her best I'm-only-a-young-girl-and-I-don't-know-anything face and batting her eyelashes.

"Well, miss, this vermin 'ere be a rat, and havin' a rat runnin' 'round the stand's no good fer business. Can't 'ave people seein' creatures like this in me stand, lest they take their money somewhere else. Now, can I get some sweet fruit fer a sweet lady like yerself?" he grinned at her, showing off rows of crooked black and yellow teeth.

"No thank you," Alice replied, eyeing the basket. "But, if you don't mind me asking, what do you plan on doing to that poor creature, now that you've caught it?"

"Well, miss, I plan on takin' it home with me this evenin', and givin' me feline somethin' to treat itself with. Now, if ye don't mind yerself, move along; I've got others willin' to look _and_ pay fer me wares," the greasy man sent one last stern nod at Alice, before looking away towards other perspective customers.

"I never said I wasn't willing to buy anything from you, sir; just that I didn't want any fruit." She replied, hoping to catch his attention again. She knew that what she was about to do was risky – stupid, even – but she saw that there was a small, hungry animal that was about to be killed just for trying to survive.

"What might ye be interested in, miss?" the owner turned back to her, a gleam in his eyes as he began to inspect her thin, but muscular, frame with interest. "Somethin'… special, perhaps?"

Alice cleared her throat, "I'll buy the mouse from you, if you wish." This seemed to shock the man, and he thought for a moment.

"Yer askin' a strange thing, miss, but vermin like this don't deserve to be runnin' 'round ruinin' business. It's be a waste of yer coins." He turned his back to her once more.

"I'm willing to pay for the creature's life." Alice tried once more, frantic now. She produced a small pouch of coins from her pocket – her entire life savings – and drew out one. This caused the man to turn back around once more. He eyed the coin warily, and then Alice.

"Whatever ye say, miss." He grinned again, and snatched the coin from her hand. That one coin was worth over twice what a dozen apples would bring in, and he barely had to work for the money. Alice, in turn, lifted the basket containing the mouse and picked up the poor, squirming creature. With that, she turned and left the man and his stand behind her.

The little mouse began struggling against her grip, crying things like, "Get yer 'ands off me, you great lump!" or "You'll be sorry when I get out of 'ere!" in a high pitched, squeaky voice. Still, she made no progress in escaping.

"Oh, shush," Alice sighed as she ducked into an alley. "I'm not going to hurt you." She opened her hands and let the white creature stand there for a moment. Her soothing words seemed to calm her slightly, but not enough.

"I've learned never to trust the likes of ye, and I'm not about to start now." She huffed, crossing her little arms.

"I've just spent a pretty penny on saving your life; what makes you think I'm going to end it now?" she argued back.

"Well… Um…" The mouse seemed at a loss for what to reply to that. Alice simply rolled her eyes and continued.

"What were you thinking, trying to steal from that man? Even if it _was _his garbage, isn't there some other way to find food? I didn't think _any_ mice lived in the market square; the forest is a much better place for someone like you," she hadn't meant it to be offensive, but the small creature seemed to take it that way.

"I was thinkin' that I have two little mouths to feed, and that they're too young to move on they're own. We're not all wild animals, ye know." She huffed indignantly and turned her back on Alice, still standing on her outstretched hands.

"Well, I'm sorry if I said something wrong; I'm only trying to help!" the blonde replied. The mouse only sniffed in response. The two stood like that in silence for a while, before Alice came up with an idea. "What is your name?"

The white mouse turned back to face her, but still refused to look at Alice. "Mallymkun," she sniffed.

"Miss Mallymkun," She began, trying to butter up to the small, stubborn creature. Her plan would benefit both parties, but she had to convince the mouse that she really was trying to help her. "How would you like to bring your family home with me?"

Mallymkun paused again, thinking. "What be in it for us?"

"You'd have food and shelter, and I'd even bring your little ones myself, if you like." Alice replied.

"Sounds fair enough to me; ye better not be lyin', though." The little creature threatened, but the blonde only smiled.

"Excellent; now, why don't you show me where you live, and I'll—"

She was cut off by a shrill cry of, "Alice!"

The girl being summoned cursed under her breath. "There's no time to go and get your children, I'm sorry. Tell me where you live, and I'll be back soon to get you." She hissed quietly, sinking further into the shadows.

"They not be me children!" Mallymkun protested, but answered Alice's question, "Under the eaves of the Manchester house." Alice's eyes bulged at the response.

"The master of the house is _Lowell_ Manchester?"

"Yes…"

"Shoot—Um, fine. Fine. I'll be back as soon as I can, Mallymkun." Alice whispered back, as the screeching was growing closer. Her new friend's home was in a very… unfortunate place, and it would be a challenge to get in and out without being seen. Alice would manage, though; she had made a promise, and she intended to keep it. She was a Kingsleigh, and that's what Kingsleighs did.

Alice lowered her hand to the ground, and the little mouse jumped onto the stones underfoot. She turned to scamper off, but hesitated. "Thank ye," and with that, she was gone. Alice smiled softy to herself, stood, and straightened her dress.

"Alice, you stupid girl!" She was greeted as she stepped from the shadows. "Where have you been?" Her stepsister's face had been turning a rather unattractive shade of red, and, at the sight of her serving-girl, she began to relax some.

"I'm sorry, ma'am." Alice curtseyed and shot a sideways glance at the small crowd that had begun gathering around the scene. "I lost track of time."

"Well, you can find it later. Hamish is waiting with the carriage, and we're ready to go." The red-clad woman turned her heel and stalked back towards the road, leaving the crowd to scatter and disband. The show was over. Alice followed soon after, a plan already formulating in her head about her return. She had promised that she would come for Mallymkun soon, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to convince anyone in the house to take her to market before the next market day. There was no way that a servant could enter the market alone without arousing suspicion.

Her plan was risky, daring, and possibly mad, but she had to try. There was one problem with it, though; something with which Alice wasn't too comfortable. It involved lying. Lots and lots of lying – more than the young woman was used too – and, if she was caught, possible death as punishment.

As she made it back to the carriage, she found herself wondering why she was about to risk everything just for a little mouse and her family. In all honesty, she, herself, didn't even know. All Alice knew was the gnawing feeling in the back of her mind telling her that something big was coming, and that she had a promise to honor.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"You want to do what?" Hamish asked in complete shock, staring at the blonde before him with wide eyes. "You can't be serious!"

"I have to help them! She looked so hungry, so imagine what the poor little ones are like." Alice replied calmly, trying to make him see reason – her reason, anyway. "Besides, there's no other way for me to go to market alone without arousing suspicion."

He gaped at her. "So you want to dress up as a noble, hitch a ride to the market square, somehow manage to sneak out three mice from under a house, and make it back here alive, intact, and unsuspected."

"Precisely." She grinned at him.

"You've gone mad!" He was exasperated with her, and threw his hands up in the air.

She gazed at him seriously and placed a comforting hand on her fretting best friend's shoulder. "My dear Hamish, I would have that thought that you had figured that out by now." She shook her head. The redhead, in return, rolled his eyes and sighed. He wasn't going to win this one, and he knew it.

"Just so you know, I'm completely and utterly against this." He sighed again. "Now, where were you thinking of getting this dress befitting a noble?" Alice smiled widely and rushed to hug him.

"Thank you! Thank you so much!"

"…You never even thought about it, did you?" He asked, referring to her clothes.

"Well, um, I was thinking that we might be able to snatch one of mother's old ones. Both Margaret and Iracebeth refuse to wear them, and they're just sitting, folded, in that dreadful trunk in Maragret's room…" She replied sheepishly. Hamish nodded, lost in thought.

"Yes… Yes, that actually might work." Alice glared at him. "Is there anyone in the room at the moment?"

"Let me go check," and with that, the blonde was off. Hamish sighed and shook his head at his friend.

"Alice, sometimes I think you're too kind for your own good…"

As soon as she made it up the stairs and approached her birth-sister's door, she slowed her frantic pace. After smoothing her hair and dress, and knocked gently on the door. "Yes, yes; what do you want?" Someone in the room screeched. Alice winced when she realized that Iracebeth was in the room, as well.

She opened the door timidly, immediately falling back into the submissive rouse that she played with the evil woman. "I- I was just coming to empty the chamber pot, ma'am." She said.

"Well, fine then. Be quick about it," Iracebeth responded sharply, before turning and resuming her conversation with Margaret, who was also in the room. "Now, as I was saying, father wants you to spend more time with this Lowell fellow. He thinks you two would make a fine match."

Margaret shifted uneasily from her spot on the bed. "He is rather dashing… but I want to learn more about him before anything too drastic is decided."

"You will marry him, Margaret!" Her stepsister snapped, her tone deadly. "My father has done so much for you, and never asked for a thing in return. It is the least you can do to respect his wishes to do the best for you!"

It was all Alice - who had been walking about the room at a much slower pace than needed - could do not to fire back a response. She kept her mouth closed tightly, however, as she pretended to dump the thankfully-empty chamber pot out the room's window. "Yes, dear sister," Margaret replied, lowering her head.

"I am happy to hear you have finally come to your senses on the matter," the redhead nodded, enjoying the feeling of superiority she had over the two sisters in the room. She did a double take, however, when she realized that Alice was still in the room, watching. "What are you still present for?" Immediately, the blonde ducked out of the room.

When Alice reached the bottom of the stairs, she nearly ran into Hamish, who had been waiting for her. He took one look at her and sighed. "I didn't think you would get one. Don't worry, I have a plan."

"You do? Good." She replied. "Must I ask what the plan is, or shall you tell me?" she smirked as he rolled his eyes at her. Suddenly, Hamish looked around, before pulling Alice into the kitchen. When Alice gave him a confused look, he merely shook his head. After a few seconds, someone came thundering down the stairs. When she peeked around the corner, Alice saw Iracebeth storming of, though Margaret wasn't with her. Soon, quiet sobs could be heard coming from the upstairs room. She felt her heart go out to her sister for just a moment, before she mentally returned to the task at hand. "Shall I have to guess, then?"

Hamish chuckled. "Tonight, while you are serving dinner, I shall sneak up and snatch a dress from her room. You can leave tomorrow directly after your morning chores are done." Alice grinned and threw her arms around her best friend.

"Thank you, Hamish!" She exclaimed.

Their happy moment was cut short when something blue zipped past them, followed by three small brown blurs. "Get them off me!" Chessur pleaded, as he was being chased by three puppies. Alice, however, immediately burst out laughing at the sight of the normally-calm cat in such a panicked state. "Get them off me!"

After their laughter had subsided, Hamish shook his head. "They're your dogs, Alice, you call them off. I have to go back to father in the fields before he notices I've been gone." With that, he left.

By now, Chessur was backed up on top of a stack of grain bags, and the little puppies were advancing. "Bantrew! Bertrand! Buiyol!" Another voice barked. "How many times have I told you to cease antagonizing Chessur?" Alice turned to see a light tan dog march into the room.

"Even I he is a cat," Bayard grumbled as he came up behind his wife, Beille.

"Sorry, mother," The three pups chorused, obviously not at all remorseful. Alice rolled her eyes as one, Bertrand, tried to take a snap at the cat when he thought his mother wasn't looking. Slowly, the little trio retreated back towards their parents, and Chessur let out a breath.

"Thank you for all your help, dear Alice," he grumbled turning to leave. All at once, the quintet of dogs seemed to notice that she was in the room with them.

"Alice!" Bantrew, the smallest of the pups, called excitedly, running over to her. She grinned and crouched down as he bounded toward her. His brother and sister followed, but, since he was the runt, caught up quickly. The blonde scooped up the little one, who proceeded to lick her face.

"Okay, okay, it's lovely to see you, too!" she laughed, as the other two started jumping around her feet.

"Did you bring us anything from the market?" Bertrand, the oldest of the triplets, asked.

"You shouldn't automatically assume she bought something for you," Buiyol, their only sister, sniffed at her brother. Alice had to laugh again at their antics.

"No, I'm sorry, little ones; not yet, anyway," she replied. Bertrand's ears drooped, and he started sulking.

"What do you mean, 'not yet'?" Bantrew asked sweetly, still in Alice's arms.

"You'll just have to wait and find out!" she grinned at him, and he snuggled up against her.

"I love surprises..." He said, before yawning.

Beille chuckled softly. "Looks like someone's getting sleepy from all this excitement," she said. "Come along, Alice should be starting supper for the Mistresses and Master, soon, and we don't want to distract her." The little pups groaned.

"But I want to stay with Alice!" Bantrew whined. Alice smiled down at him, seeing that he could barely keep his eyes open.

"Do you mind, dear?" Beille asked as she and Bayard attempted to round up the other two, who had started a game of semi-tag.

"Not at all," she replied.

"Yay!" the little puppy cheered sleepily. Soon everyone else had left the room, and Alice decided it was time to get started on the evening meal. Andrew and the sisters could be quite impatient when it came to their meals, so she gently sat the little puppy down in the soft stack of grain sacks that Chessur had evacuated only minutes ago. "I'm not tired; I want to watch you work." He told her, though he curled up as he said it.

"You can, love; I just can't cook with you in my arms. Iracebeth would have a fit if she found out, and I don't want you to get sent away." She replied, poking the fire in the hearth to get it to start. Soon, she was cooking away. Every so often, Bantrew would mumble something, and Alice smiled when she realized that he was dreaming.

"My egg is cold, you stupid girl," Iracebeth whined, picking at the food on her plate.

"Now, now, dear," Andrew soothed, "Alice will take care of it, won't you, love?" he smiled at the blonde servant-girl, though his words and actions were covered in a menacingly sweet air that sent shivers down her spine.

She knew from personal experience how cruel her stepfather could be, so she merely gave a weak, "Yes, sir," and picked up her stepsister's plate of perfectly warm food. When she entered this kitchen, she grumbled a few less-than-ladylike words under her breath and began a new egg for Iracebeth. She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts, that she barely noticed Hamish come into the room.

"I have it," he said, and she let out a small yelp of surprise and spun around. She gasped again, however, when she saw what the redhead held in his hand. The dress was a beautiful light blue, with black stitching running along the bottom. She rushed to give him yet another hug.

"Thank you, Hamish!" She said for what seemed like the millionth time that day.

"Do not thank me yet," he replied, pulling back. "We do not even know if this is going to work."

"I have full confidence that it will," she state firmly, turning back to her stepsister's meal.

The next morning, Alice finished all of her normal morning chores in frenzy. For some reason, she felt a strange excitement at the prospect of the danger that she would have to face, lest she be caught. Soon, she was standing in the run down attic room, slipping on her mother's old dress behind a makeshift dressing screen made out a of an old, torn blanket. Hamish was sitting in the room as well, waiting for her to come out.

When she finally emerged, his eyes widened. She looked beautiful with the ever-present dirt and dust cleared from her face, and the shade of blue did wonders for her. She had brushed most of the tangles out of her hair, and it now flowed down her back freely. "Well?" Alice said when Hamish kept staring for a bit too long.

He snapped out of it long enough to stammer out, "I-I'm glad it fits. I was worried about what we were going to do if it didn't." Alice rolled her eyes.

"Well, I'm glad you didn't grab a corset while you were up there," she replied, adjusting the skirts. Unfortunately, Hamish had also failed to grab decent shoes for a noble to wear. Instead, Alice was going to have to wear her normal work boots. Thankfully, though, the dress covered most of her feet somewhat. "What about the shoes, though?"

"I don't think anyone will be looking at your feet, Alice," he replied.

She sighed. "Alright, I'm ready to go."

"How do you plan on getting there?" Hamish asked, barely hiding a smirk.

"I am taking a horse." She replied cheekily, crossing her arms indignantly. "You don't have to think of everything, you know."

"Will it not be odd to have a proper lady riding into the market on only a horse?" he replied, rolling his eyes.

"I'll manage! Have a little faith, will you?" she huffed, balling up the dress she had just taken off and stuffing it in the straw mattress she used for a bed. "Well, I think that's all. I'll be back in several hours, hopefully with some new additions to the family." She started toward the door to the stairs. Thankfully, both Iracebeth and Margaret were out of the house for a reason unknown to either servant, and Andrew was in his study. No one would notice if Alice was gone for a few hours.

Just as she stepped out, Hamish reached out a hand to stop her. "Are you sure, Alice? You're taking an awfully large risk just to help a few rodents, and don't you think you've brought enough animals into this house? Just think of that cat, and the five dogs you've 'rescued'."

"Whether it was the right decision or not, I have to go through with this. I made a promise, and I intend to keep it." And with that, she was off. As quickly as she could without dirtying her dress, she made her way to the stables for her horse. She had no need to worry if a stable-hand should see her, as Hamish was the stable-boy. It made things much easier to deal with when it was really only the two of them… and Ascott.

When she reached the stall of her most trusted horse, Alice nearly skidded to a stop and took a moment to catch her breath. "Are you alright, miss?" Kentwell asked worriedly. He was a beautiful black stallion – one of the few reminders she had of her father – and Alice trusted him with her life.

"Yes, Kentwell; I'm fine. I must ask a favor, though…" the blonde described her plan to the horse, who agreed to help her. "Thank you, my friend," she smiled. After unlocking the stall, she briefly wrapped her arms around the animal's neck in a sort-of hug, before breaking the embrace and reaching for the saddle.

Soon, she was riding through the sunny afternoon on her horse, dressed in find silks, and unaccompanied by anyone at all. Alice felt extremely uneasy about the whole situation – though she wasn't having second thoughts – yet she had no idea whether it was from the heat on the day, the fear of being seen in broad daylight, or the rush from the fact that this was one of the few times that she had gone out of her way to specifically go against every rule, guideline, boundary, and restriction that had been placed on her by Andrew and Iracebeth. It wasn't long before she pulled Kentwell towards the shade of the trees as soon as the Tulgey Wood emerged in sight.

Having grown up on the outskirts between the two kingdoms of Marmoreal and Salazun Grum – and having played and explored with the freedoms of a serving-girl – Alice knew each and every little back route and nary-traveled path there was to know. When she was little, she had only sought them out in search of picnic spots for she and her mother and sister, though now she mentally thanked her memory again and again.

The two slowed their rather brisk pace of travel as they came to a rather dimly-lit clearing in the thicket of trees. "I'm afraid this is where I leave you, my friend," Alice said, sliding of her horse's back, but keeping hold of the reigns. "I'll be back very shortly, though."

"I shall wait for you, miss," Kentwell replied loyally, bowing his head to her slightly. She felt a warm glow spread through her at the sight, and smiled at her friend.

"Thank you," she gave him a quick hug, before making her way quietly to the far edge of the clearing. After gathering her skirts in her hand, she brushed aside the foliage in her way and disappeared into the nature once more. After several long moments of fighting her way through the thicket and trying to maintain some look of regality about herself, Alice briefly began to wonder whether or not she still remembered the way correctly or not. Thankfully – just when she was prepared to turn back – the light through the leaves before her and overhead began to lighten, and soon the blonde found herself on the small dirt path that lead from straight to the market square.

With a smile to herself, Alice smoothed her skirts, ran a hand through her hair, and made her way towards the one thing that – by the end of the afternoon – could either be the bravest or idiotic task she had ever gone through with. She knew one thing, though; she could feel it in her bones. This was going to be the start of something big, and there was no going back now.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Tarrant, really!" Mirana, White Queen of Underland (her reign had expanded to include past the Marmoreal borders after her father – the Red King – died suddenly without a second heir of direct royal blood) ceased her incessant pounding on the wooden door before her, and simply rested her forehead against it in defeat. She tried a different tactic to get her adopted brother to answer his door; begging. "Please, Tarrant. It's not good for you to be shut up in your room all day without talking to anyone or eating anything. Will you at least tell me what's wrong?" she pleaded. Again, the only response she received was silence. "Come now, you are acting like a child!" she sighed, exasperated at his behavior.

"Maybe I never intended to grow up," came the muffled – yet still cheeky – reply from the other side of the door. She could tell that he was a ways away from the door, but at least he could hear her.

"At least open the door," Mirana said. "I won't come in if you don't want me to." There was a pause, some shuffling, and – suddenly – the Queen was plummeting towards the ground. With an un-Queen-like 'oof' as she landed face-first on the floor, she thought that maybe she should have removed her weight from the door before it was opened. Then again, she hadn't actually expected him to open it. She shifted into a sitting position and glared up at the madman before her.

Though he was not of direct royal descent (thus was unable to take control of the Red Throne), Prince Tarrant Hightopp was as much of a brother to Queen Mirana as any. He had been the son of the royal hatter and royal seamstress, both of whom had perished – along with the rest of his family – in a horrible fire during a wild Jabberwocky attack. At the time, there had been suspicion about just how much of an accident it had been, but it was now the accepted story that the once-glorious town of Witzend was destroyed by no malevolent intention… though the Jabberwocky had escaped into the Outlands before he could be caught.

If his name was not enough to alert someone before a direct meeting, the Prince's appearance even further accentuated the fact that he was not in any way related to the royal family. Whereas Mirana and her parents had held the traits physical directly related to which kingdom they would grow to serve, Tarrant was restricted in no such way. His vibrantly wild orange hair protruded from his head like porcupine's quills after he had accidently skewered a dragonfruit, and his skin was a deathly white stained with the poison pink as a result of his hobby. More colors surrounded his eyes, and his smile revealed a gap between his two front teeth. Definitely not Kingly material, as he had often been reminded by the Lords and Ladies that roamed about the White Palace.

"Whatever are you doing on the floor, my dear?" he grinned mockingly down at his sister, who only rolled her eyes. The Prince's speech was 'stained' with a soft lisp which the Queen found endearing. "I realize that you are to love all things, but don't you think that the tile would much rather like its personal space? Or were you merely apologizing for stepping on it?"

Mirana opened her mouth to respond, before closing it and nodding shaking her head. Sometimes it was better not to question Tarrant's ramblings, and, at this moment, she chose to ignore it. "Will you come out now?" she asked, gazing around the form of her brother and into the workshop where he spent the majority of his time. His father had been the royal hatter to her parents, and he had inherited both his love and skill for the trade. Despite Mirana's encouragements to sell his masterpieces, however, he preferred to give them away to the nobles of the court. He took no orders, as it was his hobby that he did for the enjoyment of creation.

"What would I want to be out there for, when I can be in here?" he asked, blinking down at her. She saw a flash of sadness in his eyes, and immediately she knew what she had missed. Of course; how could she have forgotten? Today was the anniversary of the terrible Horrunvendush Day, when Witzend had been attacked. Tarrant was only mourning; coping in the only way he knew how to. Work.

"Maybe you should go visit them." The Queen said softly from her spot on the floor, patting the ground next to her. Her brother obediently sat down, gazing at her with wide, hurt eyes. "I will have my guards make sure no one sees you."

"They won't remember me; that's how it is with the dead, you know. They leave without a trace and never come back to visit, and if they ever do, it has been so long that one or the other isn't recognizable anymore." He sighed, crossing legs and resting his head in his hands. They must have looked a sight, a Queen and a madman sitting halfway in the hall and halfway in a milliner's workplace.

"You never know," she replied, making ready to stand. "It would do you good to leave the castle for once, though." She gave a comforting squeeze to her brother's arm, and, sensing that her brother needed to be left alone once more, started to depart. She began to make her way down the hall, only pausing once for a moment to shoot a reassuring glance over her shoulder. Tarrant gave a distracted nod in response, as he was still lost in his thoughts. Maybe she was right; maybe it would be alright to see his family for once. He owed it to them on this day. It was the debt he needed to pay for being the only with the gift of life.

Tarrant stayed like that – on the floor, completely absorbed in his mind – until frantic footsteps resounded through the deserted hallway and broke him from his trance. Upon blinking back to reality, his creased brow relaxed and he broke into a wide grin. The sight of his friend, though, was enough to make anyone smile.

Barreling down the white corridor – appendages flailing and eyes wild – was a brown Hare, keeping a death-grip on the ladle in his right hand the entire time. Upon seeing Tarrant, he paused, blinked his huge hazel eyes, resumed his running. The prince let out a mad giggle as he took in the insane knot of fur that was his closest friend (next to his sister, of course) "Why the hurry?" he less than a second his melancholy mood. The Hare skidded to a stop – nearly crashing into the wall in the process – and stared at him for several seconds, his left eye twitching uncontrollably.

"Salt!" he suddenly exclaimed, gripping his ladle with his other hand as well. "It needs salt!" The Hare's voice rang with the accent of the Outlands, an area past both Salezun Grum and Marmoreal borders. Though the area was under the White Queen's rule, there was little control that actually took place there. The population was scarce, and those who were there mostly kept to themselves. The town where both he and the animal before him were from was near the Outland borders, through the Tulgey wood. The grand, fallen metropolis, Witzend.

The prince stared at his friend with amusement, while the Hare just gazed unblinkingly back. Thackery – for that was the creature's name – was the castle's unbelievably mad cook. He was an absolute culinary genius who was able to create a dish fit for the Queen herself from nothing but gruppleberries and sugar, but could not for the life of him figure out how to tie his bowtie. Suddenly, a convulsing tremor wracked its way through Thackery's body, and, when it was over, he shook himself and blinked a few times. "Whatever are ye doin' on tae floor?" he asked, tilting his suddenly-not-as-jumbled head to the side in confusion.

"I'm contemplating what it means to be me right now." Tarrant responded good-naturedly, though even the mad rabbit could tell that something was eating him on the inside. Of course, being the friend that he was, Thackery knew exactly what day it was. "And what, may I ask, needs salt?"

The Hare jumped a little and glanced down, doing a double-take when he saw the ladle in his hand. "Spoon." He said, bringing it up to his face and his eyes widening. He quickly shook himself once more, though, trying to keep some level of remote sanity while talking to his distressed friend. "Ah mean, soup; tae soup needs salt." He corrected himself, repeating the last part several times in a mumbled tone, as if he was telling himself the answer to the question. There was a comfortable pause between the two friends, and soon Thackery's mumblings turned to a tune. "Salt, salt, salt, sa-alt." He sang quietly, seeming to forget where he was. Tarrant chuckled at his antics.

"Well, my dear Thackery, I really must be going," the Prince stood and grinned at the Hare, who blinked back less-than-cluelessly. "I will see you at dinner tonight, yes?" He nodded once before retreated down the hall toward the castle exit.

"Dinneh be late!" The mad animal called after him, shaking his ladle in the air and grinning insanely.

The minute Alice stepped into the square alone, she knew she was going to have to be a very talented actress to pull of her scheme. The market was crawling with noble women and men out on such a beautiful day, each accompanied by their own servants or ladies in waiting. She fingered the little gold left in her coin purse, took a deep breath, and stepped forward. Soon, she was weaving her way through the crowds as she slowly trudged towards one of the last places in Underland she ever wanted to even be in the remote vicinity of. Manchester Manor; home of Lowell Manchester, number two bachelor of the entire kingdom (a statement that irked him enough to discount the fact that number one was the Prince, even though the royal himself was somewhat of an enigma, and most rarely counted him as 'eligible').

"'Scuse me, lass, cou'd aye int'rest ye in some ripe—oi, 'ave aye seen ye before?" Alice cursed inwardly – she had been so close to not attracting attention – and turned to face the voice. Sure enough, the apple vender with which she had had her, eh, disagreement previously was standing with his stand behind her, giving her a strange look.

"No, sir, I don't believe we have ever met." She replied curtly, nodding her head as regally as she could and preparing to continue on.

"Nay, aye do think we 'ave." He insisted, taking a step forward. Alice held her ground, glaring at him warily. "Aye'd swear on Mirana 'erse'f that we'd met before."

"I'm terribly sorry, sir, but I do believe you have the wrong woman in mind. You may have seen me about the market, but I doubt we have ever formally introduced ourselves." Alice tried once more to make her escape from the potentially explosive situation, but was again stopped, this time by a hand on her shoulder as she tried to turn around.

"Well, then, allow me tae introduce meself, lass. Fenway Greene, at yer service; terribly sorry fer tae mistake." He gave her a greasy grin and bowed low, reaching for her hand to kiss it. Alice reacted as any sensible woman would… and jerked her hand from his grasp. He shot her a glare but kept that frightening look on his face. "No need tae be rude, lass. Aye was only tryin' tae bae cord'al." Alice took another step backwards, and this time Fenway allowed her to depart. As she sped away, though, she could feel his piercing gaze follow her hungrily. She made a mental note to head back a different way through the market.

Soon, Alice came upon the row of townhouses that stood just past the market. She was still close enough to the hustle and bustle, though, that she did not attract much attention. Grey building after grey building she passed, formulating her 'plan of attack' to retrieve her little companions. Before she knew it, the blonde was standing before a particularly-foreboding brick structure. Under the eaves, she had said… Alice casually walked around part of the house, searching the building-line discreetly. Her efforts were in vain, however. "Why good afternoon, miss." Alice spun around at the sound of the voice, heart pounding. She had been caught.

When she looked, however, she saw that it was not she who was being addressed. Around the corner of the great building stood an average-sized man with dark brown hair and a wicked gleam in his eyes. He had greeted a pretty young lady with dirty-blonde hair who had been taking an afternoon stroll. She giggled and blushed as he bowed, and Alice shot the untrustworthy Lowell Manchester a glare behind his back. He was supposedly courting her sister, Margaret, at the moment, but one wouldn't be able to tell by the way he smiled sweetly at the young lady and struck up a pleasant conversation. Almost immediately after they had met, her hand rested in the crook of his arm and they were off to who-knows-where to do things that… Alice would rather not think about.

As soon as she was sure the pair was out of sight, the blonde turned back the task at hand. After fully circling the house once more (discreetly, of course), she began to wonder if she had heard the mouse right. It was Manchester Manor, right? Right as she was preparing to retrace her steps and head back home, a familiar squeak caught her attention. "Tha's 'er! Quickly now; 'urry on now." Alice turned in the direction the tiny voice was coming from and, sure enough, there was Mallymkun standing on one of the window ledges. Alice briefly wondered who she was talking to, before she caught a glimpse of fur huddled behind the white mouse.

"Mallymkun!" Alice cried softly, getting the mouse's attention – as she had been focused on the little things behind her.

"Ah knew ye'd come," she broke into a grin, seemingly in a much better mood than the last time they had met. "Thank ye fer doin' this." She turned behind her and pushed a little grey mouse in front of her. "Ye fi'st, Fellnia." The youngster looked scared to death, and she eyed Alice with a look akin to fear and suspicion. "Go on." Alice stretched out her hand and Fellnia stumbled onto it with another push from the elder. "Darben, yer next." A brown mouse stepped from behind Mallymkun at his name, and he scrambled onto Alice's hand with no further need for pushing. As soon as the children were safely in Alice's care, Mally stepped onto Alice's hand.

The blonde looked around to make sure no one was watching (for if someone saw her snooping around the Manchester house, she would be reported foe sure), and safely tucked the three in her nearly-empty coin purse. When she received a scowl from Mally, she simply said. "Until we're out of the crowds," and that was that. Alice made sure to travel back through the market a completely different way she had come, as not to attract the unwanted attention from Fenway, and soon they were back on the deserted road heading toward the forest. Alice noted with some dissatisfaction that she had taken longer than intended, and the sun was beginning to get low in the sky.

She felt a pull on her sleeve, and she looked down from her thoughts to see Mally making her way up Alice's arm from the open coin-pouch at her waist. "Ah don't think ah can thank ye enou' fer gettin' me siblin's ou' o' there." She said sincerely, perching herself on Alice's shoulder.

"You're very welcome, my friend," Alice replied, shooting the little creature a small smile. "I only hope what I have back home will be enough for you three."

"Times is 'ard," was the response. Mally glanced away with a far-off look in her eyes. "Ah'm sure wha'eva' ye've go' will be mo'e than we 'ad. Ye ca' believe 'ow 'ard i' was cons'an'ly tryin' tae avoi' ge'in ea'en o' t'apped o' somethin'."

Alice didn't feel the need to do anything except give her new friend a reassuring smile as they reached the end of the path. Soon, they were breaking through the trees into the forest in search of Kentwell. The blonde breathed a sigh of relief as she spotted her horse, thankful that she was finally able to relax. They had managed to pull it off without being recognized, or caught, for sneaking around private property. After a quick word of thanks to her horse, Alice placed the three little mice on Kentwell's head as she hitched up her skirts and prepared to swing up onto him. Suddenly, there was a snap behind her, and she spun around.

And froze.


	5. Chapter 4

**My first update on this thing! Awesomeness! I hope you guys enjoy it!**

Alice spun around and gasped at the sight before her. There was a man, perhaps he was the most colorful man she'd ever seen, standing a few feet away from her. A mane of orange hair was on his head, a wild mess of tangled and electrified curls. His skin was whiter than the queen's was rumored to be, whiter than snow in fact, but was stained with pinks and blues and purples. His hands were red, scarred and calloused. He was tall, but not as tall as to tower over her step-father. As for his size about his middle, Alice could not tell accurately because of his clothes. His eyes were what Alice found most… _interesting _of all. Bright green and shining like stars, but hints of orange leaking from his pupils, they were also out of focus, slightly looking in different directions. He reminded her of what she'd always imagined a Fae to look like. He was in one word: Enchanting.

The man, about her age, stuttered incoherently, revealing a gap in his white teeth behind his magenta lips. "I'm terribly sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you!" he lisped, shaking his hands wildly and took a step back.

Alice didn't know how you react, her heart still slammed in her chest and she felt like all her innards (except the obvious heart) had converged in her throat, leaving her light headed and ready to collapse. However something deep inside her prompted her and she found herself speaking without her brain even telling her tongue.

"You're alright; I've just been jumpy lately." The man stepped closer to her and extended his hand. "Might I ask who you are?"

The man though for a moment, contemplating. Should he tell her? He did not feel like telling any one who he was today of all days, but if he told her his full name she would likely know immediately. "My name is Tarrant, I'm the son of a Lord in the Queen's court." So it wasn't a total lie. His name _was_ Tarrant but he was not the son of a Lord in the Queen's court.

"I'm Alice," She said and took his hand.

"Again, I'm sorry for scaring you." He took Alice's hand and kissed her knuckles. Alice blushed and curtsied clumsily.

"What are you doing here in the back woods my Lord, and so far from the palace?" Tarrant shrugged.

"I like to get out; in truth I was going to visit some friends. What were you doing here?" Alice shrugged and looked at him innocently.

"I was riding and got a little lost, but I believe I can find my way from here now." Tarrant raised an eye brow at her in question.

"Are you sure?" Alice nodded.

"I'll be fine, we must hurry back or else my family will worry." She stepped closer to Kentwell and he followed suite, trapping her against Kentwell's side. Alice turned hastily, her cheeks flaming as she started to mount Kentwell and not get her foot caught in the fabric of her dress.

"What's wrong with me? I've never been so nervous in my life!" She thought to herself. Then a voice rang in her mind loudly.

"That's because you've never been around a man that isn't family!" Alice chose to ignore the voice in favor of getting atop the black steed.

"Allow me to help you onto your horse," Alice felt two strong and calloused hands lift her up and help her.

Kentwell, bless his heart, suddenly snapped out at Tarrant when he touched her. Mally and her two siblings were thrown back a bit but they managed to hold onto the horse's mane. Tarrant lost his balance and fell back and since he was still gripping Alice she fell back as well. The prince made sure that she landed atop him so the landing was not as hard for her.

Alice stared into his face mere inches away, her face was bright red and she held her breath. To her shock the prince started to laugh, a mad fit of giggles would actually serve as a better description for the twittering sound. She turned and glared at Kentwell who looked positively sheepish.

Alice quickly stood from him and offered her hand to help him up. Tarrant laughed and took her hand. "You are perhaps the most interesting person I have ever met!" Now that was the truth.

"How so," Alice asked smugly.

"I thought_ I_ was supposed to help _you_ up, not vice versa!" Alice smiled shyly.

"I'm not like other girls." Tarrant shrugged and carefully helped her onto her horse.

"Be careful on your way back to your family." He smiled, she nodded and Kentwell took off at a steady trot, careful this time of the mice on his head.

"Well, well, well Alice." He looked at her slyly.

"What, what's wrong Kentwell?" Horse looked at her with his eyes half closed.

"You and that lord," he hinted. Alice blushed and teasingly kicked his sides.

"Just keep going and get us home before any one notices we are gone!" Kentwell and Mally snickered.


End file.
